Looking back at 2014 we have many found memories. We did a lot of fun trips and things. Gavin had his first birthday, that’s always a big deal. We traveled to Chicago for my brothers wedding, Lancaster to assist my mother as she recovered from eye surgery, and explored different areas of Colorado among meeting friends and family there also. And, just life day to day discovering new meanings of motherhood.
We also journeyed with my brother-in-law and his battle with cancer, made various trips to Houston to see and care for them and made meals for the boys who stayed home attempting to continue on with their lives of school and work. Praise The Lord Tim is doing well and celebrated Christmas with the big family once again this year!
I can’t leave out the hard and not so pretty side to give last year a balanced memoir. Every year has it’s struggles whether voiced or barely uttered to God. There have been long periods of waiting only to end in more waiting. It’s hard when God doesn’t answer our wants.
What happens in our lives beyond our control we can’t swerve away from.
It’s when we find ourselves curled up in a fetal position, weak and aware of our helplessness, tears streaming, that we start thinking things like – “Is God’s plan better?”
Of course our plan is to get what we want because it’s hard to imagine something better.
As we stop to close the door on 2014 the hard stuff keeps slipping through. We can’t keep it back behind closed doors. It won’t stay hidden. Out of our brains. Taunting endless nights slowly aiming to get to us and shake any confidence we once thought we had.
It’s a part of us. It’s my story. It’s your story.
As much as I hated the hard parts of 2014, I saw that I didn’t want to be bitter about them either in 2015. I don’t want to see other people who look like they have a better life or the life I anticipated and be jealous or blame God for not being fair. My desire is to look forward with eyes of grace. I want to rest in the mystery of each next moment, I yearn to trust God. Let my heart rest in his safety and care for me.
Looking back, I’ve felt Gods warm hand on my shoulder. He held me with my calloused hands from trying so hard and cried with me. And on the darkest night he helped me to say, “Lord, I want your will to be done even if it hurts.”
Happy and hard parts, I want to own my story. I’m not saying pretend I’m ok with forced fake smiles. I’m saying have peace with my God and the story he’s writing with my little life. I can’t control my tomorrows, though I try. I long to rest in a scene written completely different than I anticipate. Yes, it pains me to write those words because maybe more waiting will slowly trickle into a long thick chapter of waiting and waiting.
This is my story. How about you?